The Awakening
by Manaak Farspier
Summary: The time has finally come for the awakening of the Devil Kasamatsu, and the search for the incarnation of the ancient Hero. Read the prelude to this tale of Good and Evil set around the world.


My eyes bleed for you, for I can't see anymore, my eyes bleed the blood which runs red, it caresses my hands and leaps forth to the ground, I long for the undulations of red tears to cease to end, yet I don't for when the blood runs from my eyes, your name by some means is in my ear, encircling my mind, it bends reality twists it into, into something else, and then I cant find you anymore. It would have never happened, all of it, it would have never happened; why, why did you have to die my dear Izumi, I live for you I breath the same cool air that you do, why did you have to die; you said, you would never leave, never go, but you did, you left so suddenly so very suddenly. It was as if you never existed until the day you left, the day you died a tragic and horrible death. And even now I cant believe it all those lies, all those emotions, they all are nothing, you see I loved you and you, you left, your blood still on my hands, it is now brown, no longer a vibrant life filled red, now it is fading, like the moon as the sun rises for the new day, yet you do not rise, you stay, stay, in the ground, deep within the dark earth. But some still tell me that the light cannot reach you there, and that you will soon rot, becoming one with the earth, doing as what many before did, your spirit no longer with the living, no longer with me, with your family but drifting on the currents of air from the earth in sadness to the heavens in glory, but as you do I cry for you, for they say not many can make the journey and those who do, those who do...well enough of my sobs, my cries for hope, you are dead and as many have said, I must as you did, I must leave the past, yet I will never forget you my dearest love, sleep well and please do not be sad, your eyes are too beautiful to bare the tears of grief and despair like ours, good night and farewell.  
Mr. Goto left the shrine slowly, as if waiting for some miraculous resurrection to occur to bring his recently diseased wife back from the grave where she now lay motionless. The door was closed as he left and the figure within now was covered in shadows, Mr. Goto then walked solemnly off, comforted by his son and daughter as they made there way back home to Tokyo, yet, as they left the figure within now came to life, once a motionless mourner now took some kind of object from his long robe covering his body in dark silk and satin lace, a strange thing for a caretaker of a shrine to wear; as the family slowly departed the figure in the shirne began moving closer and closer to the center; now as the voices were so far away that even the now cheerful laughs of the Goto were gone and you could have only heard them as if they were whispers from a distance, but as that happened the caretaker took his robe off revealing a mass of tattooed and scared flesh, with symbols of war and peace intermingled with destruction, a strange combination for even the most twisted of worshippers, what was this man, what is such a things business within this aged women's shrine; My dear, you have nothing to worry now, your heart will soon be with me, and your journey to the heavens, well, it will be delayed by some unresolved issues, I guess I need an introduction my lady, I am Masahide, I have came for your sole and well, for my own pleasures as well my dear. The crazed man began to laugh hysterically, only stopping to continue his twisted discourse. This practice is so rewarding, pleasure is so hard to come by these days, the twisted monk chuckled, my business well for you is unknown, I plan not to tell you any of it, not like you can hear in your grave mistress, but I'm no idiot, well hmm, were was I, oh yes, time for a little snack, Ill hope you'll join me, well I guess you wont but, if you don't mind I am going to begin. The figure took forth from his robe a spade of some sort, not looking as though one should look, it was made of a black metal, with silver symbols decorating its handle, yet, the odd thing about it was not its handle at all or the symbols adorning it, it was the fact that this object, had a red aura surrounding it, a very odd thing for a simple tool to have. The monk continued his ritual with care until he reaching the climatic end. Masahide held the spade with a single hand in the air, abatamentum abbottare, he began to roar, abatamentum abbottare, abatamentum abbottare, the ground now began to rise, and fall wildly. The earth began to breake through the wooden floor, the boards first began to bend, and then slowly and as the words of Masahide, the twisted monk began to grow in speed and strength, the floor, it could not resist the might of Masahide, and as the floor gave it broke and as the boards rose forth into the air, they revealed the tomb of Izumi, wife of Goto , and the undead Kasamatsu. 


End file.
